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by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [353]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Dean, Cutting, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Recovery, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 20:51:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9202769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: Sam's been eight months clean of self-harm, but today, he slips.





	

It’s a bad, long hunt with days of no-sleep research beforehand. It’s Dean taking the lead on the hunt because that’s just who he is, a bossy asshole who likes to be in charge and doesn’t even realize he’s doing it sometimes. It’s Sam getting nabbed and tied up and taunted for four hours before he manages to break the ropes. It’s Dean finishing the hunt and Sam left off to the side, practically worthless.

Everything is spinning out of control and Sam feels useless, needs something to ground him and feel real and controllable again and–

And he needs it.

He’s been working on not needing it. Eight months clean, now. Eight months of denying himself what he’d come to rely on so much. 

But today’s the day that shatters that work and before he can get around to talking himself out of it, there’s four new lines pressed into his arm. They’re mostly shallow, although one is deeper than he intended, bleeding steadily. Sam swears and looks at it, wondering if it needs stitches.

Dean walks in while he’s still debating. It’s not like Sam remembered to lock the bathroom door, something they never do anyway and would have been a dead giveaway if he tried. Dean’s eyes catch on Sam’s arm. “Aw, Sammy,” he says.

Sam’s eyes tear up a bit. “Sorry,” he says. It felt good in the moment, was _exactly_  what he needed right then, but now…now, with Dean watching him like that, realizing he probably needs stitches, that he just flushed eight months down the drain…now, it feels like shit.

“Let’s get you sitting,” Dean says, gesturing to the closed toilet. Sam sits and lets Dean take his arm, and this is the opposite of what he wanted. This isn’t gaining back a sense of control, this is waiting for Dean to make his judgment.

It’s hard to stitch himself up and bandage his own wrists, though, so he lets Dean work. He closes his eyes when Dean gives him two quick stitches, trying to ignore the feeling of the needle piercing his skin.

“Done,” Dean says, voice raspy.

“Thanks,” Sam says, not looking up. He heaves a shuddering breath. 

“Hey,” Dean says, rubbing a hand on Sam’s back. “You wanna talk about it? You’ve…you’ve been good for a while, man. What made today bad?”

Sam shrugs. “I dunno. Everything…everything was just outta control and I couldn’t stop it and I needed something. Only now, those eight months, they’re gone, wasted. And I…I did this, fucked it all up.”

Dean shrugs. “Sammy, it ain’t the end of the world, okay? So you have to start again. You can do it. You know you can, right? You did it once.” He takes a deep breath. “And I’m here for you. Remember that, right? I’m here. So, when you need something…next time…come find me. And we’ll work together to stop this. Because we work best together, right?”

Sam doesn’t nod, but Dean also doesn’t stop rubbing his back, and he leans into it a little bit. Right. He can do this. Just like last time. Only this time, when things get bad, he’ll remember he can talk to Dean.

Maybe he should talk to him before that. And tell him things like acting like a goddamned military commander is a good way to send Sam towards that edge. Dean would probably want to know that, and maybe knowing would help him consider changing. It would help.

Sam takes a deep breath. He’ll tell him later. They’ll talk, because Dean’s promised he’ll listen. For now, Dean’s hand on his back feels good and Sam needs that little bit of comfort before dealing with the rest of this.


End file.
